


The Suicide Pact

by Otaku67



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chatlogs, Chatting & Messaging, Depression, Happy Ending, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-22 17:43:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2516336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otaku67/pseuds/Otaku67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shinji Ikari is an extraordinarily plain high schooler, and he wants to die. When he stumbles across a chatroom called "The suicide Pact," where people gather to discuss their suicidal thoughts, he finds a source of comfort he didn't know he needed. He receives a PM from a mysterious boy named Kaworu Nagisa, and they decide to take their own lives, together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Suicide Pact

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place in an AU where they live in the year 2014 as it actually is- none of the Evas or anything. Kaworu and Shinji are simple, normal high school students.

“Shinji? Are you home?”

Shinji Ikari hears his father’s voice. The answer to his question is yes; he should tell him. A boy should be able to answer a simple question for their father. But Shinji can’t. If he answers- if he reveals his presence to his father- his father will hurt him. Maybe with his words, maybe with his hands, maybe with his belt. Regardless, Shinji does not want to be hurt. So he does not respond. His father will leave soon, anyway.

He pulls up his web browser.

_Google: I want to die. Enter._

Various results appear. Stories; sad images; articles on suicide prevention; articles on suicidal thoughts; articles on how to commit suicide. Shinji scrolls past all of these. He isn’t quite sure why he’s looking this up; for a temporary sense of belonging, perhaps.

He keeps scrolling. He reaches the bottom of the page. He moves onto the next one. He reads the titles of each link but clicks on nothing. He reaches the bottom and moves onto the next one. Reads. Reaches the bottom. Clicks on the next one. Bottom. Next. Bottom. Next.

Then something catches his eye.

There was nothing special about this page, nothing particularly eye-catching. Perhaps it was simply because he had tired of scrolling and clicking, scrolling and clicking, without really reading, and happened to open the first link he saw after becoming bored. _The suicide Pact: we want To die,_ the page is titled. He recognizes the URL as a chatroom website. The page loads.

The webpage’s design is a very simple array of grays, blacks, and whites, with a header consisting of black and white skulls and crosses. Below the header reads _Suicide Pact </3_ in an eerie font with a red border: the only splash of color on the page. Below it, in the same creepy font but in a smaller size, reads _Password_. And below that is a white text box.

Shinji moves his cursor over the box and clicks. For a moment, he does nothing, as if expecting it to submit a password for him. ...he types _“password”_ and presses enter on his keyboard. A dialogue box appears below, reading Sorry, this password is incorrect in a simple red font. It would have been comical if the password was actually just _“password…”_ Shinji almost smiles to himself.

He tries _“the suicide pact_. _”_

_Sorry, this password is incorrect._

__

_“Suicide”_

_Sorry, this password is incorrect._

__

_“Death”_

__

_Sorry, this password is incorrect._

Why is he trying so hard? He’ll never guess it. ...just to humor himself, he tries the search that brought him here. _“I want to die.”_

A dialogue box does not pop up. Instead, the screen changes and the option to enter a screen name appears. ...the password actually was _“I want to die”_? Shinji doesn’t know if he should feel startled, proud, or impressed. So he chooses to think nothing of it.

Shinji had never been particularly skilled at coming up with creative or meaningful names for things. So, he simply submits “Ikari.”

_Welcome!_

The background remains the same, but now a chat log fills the screen. There are many more colors now, as users are able to change the color of their text. But as his eyes actually read the text, he realizes that the page is just as dreary as the homepage.

_I am fat and ugly and want to die_

__

_i dont even have any friends_

__

_Ever since he left me, I’ve been nothing. I wish I was dead!!!_

__

_My family doesn’t accept me._

__

_cutting is nto enough, i need to die_

Every few seconds, new text appears, all of similar natures. Shinji furrows his eyebrows in concern. _What is this-?_

A new type of message appears in the chat log, by someone with the screen name “Admin.”

_Remember what this chatroom is for, guys!!! It’s ok to tell us how you feel, but if you’re not gonna act on it soon, please get out!!! (✿◠‿◠)_

Shinji feels his stomach churn with disgust. ...and yet, he doesn’t click away. He continues to graze over each new wave of text.

_hey i live in Okinawa, who else?_

__

_I do!!!!_

__

_pm me. we might be able to do this together_

Although Shinji wasn’t notably intelligent, he has enough sense to piece together what that brief conversation implied. He had seen it on the news and heard about it in school… Groups of teens- usually just duos- were gathering at specified locations to commit suicide together. He had heard of it, yes, but watching as two people planned it out, right before his eyes… He could stop them -! His cursor blinks in the chat bar, his keyboard is beneath his fingertips. He can type a simple plea that just might save two lives...

But he doesn’t do it. He sits still and watches as their conversation is buried in a sea of other depressive comments. For all he knew, those two people could be dead the next day. ...oh well. Too late for him to do anything about it. He continues to sit and read the chats.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The Suicide Pact became a sort of haven for Shinji. Each day after school, he ran to his room as if his father might be home to catch him, opened his search history, logged into the chat with the password “I want to die,” chose the screen name Ikari, and sat back and watched the steady flow of suicidal discussion.

He could not explain why he enjoyed this so much. Maybe he was secretly sadistic. Maybe he felt like he belonged with these people. Maybe he liked that their pain distracted him from his own. He didn’t like to dwell on the reason why, because it usually made him hate himself more. So he continued to do it day after day without question. Although he read everything that was entered, he never typed anything himself; never even attempted it. What would he say? “I want to die”? “I hate myself”? Everyone there felt like that. It would be redundant. He could explain his situation, why exactly he wanted to leave this world… But that was too personal for him. He was content with just being on the sidelines.

Having spent so much time on the site, Shinji eventually started taking note of certain patterns. Oftentimes, the same screen names would reappear each day, just as his own did. Sometimes there would be comments like “It’s me, ___, I’m just using a different name.” But people like that typically didn’t stick around. Those that did, however, posted frequently and fervently; sometimes the same thing each day, sometimes having varying conversations with the other users. But there was one thing Shinji noticed about these returning users. Each and every one of them so far would eventually make one particular comment: “I’m going to do it.”

Shinji came to realize that this comment, or anything of a similar nature, was a trump card. It was always their final remark made in the chat log (except for perhaps an added “Goodbye” or “Thanks guys” or some other last words). Those returning usernames never did reappear once they made that statement.

Of course Shinji realized what this meant. His heart would drop each time he saw a comment like that. They made his mind wander; how did they do it? Where? Did they leave a note? What were their last spoken words? What finally pushed them over the edge? He thought these things; but he never said anything. He bit his lip, felt sad for a few moments, and continued scrolling.

Not every recurring username made that final comment, though. There were still a handful that stuck around from the time Shinji had discovered the log. A couple of them lingered silently on the sidelines, like he did, only occasionally posting things like “same” or “ikr” or “life sucks.” Shinji was the only one that was constantly silent.

There was another thing Shinji noticed about the site’s users. Very few of them had screen names as simple as his. They were typically dark, such as “goodbyeworld666” and “xxpainxx” and “bLeEdInGsHaDoW.” He always raised an eyebrow at these distasteful names; although, he had to admit that they were more creative than his own, so his disapproval didn’t last long.

But there was one user, only one, that applied to none of the patterns that Shinji had acknowledged.

The first thing unique about them was their screen name. “FifthChild.” Shinji wondered what the meaning in this was; surely the others had to, as well, but no one ever asked. Perhaps Shinji was just too dull to understand its meaning. But their username was not the only unusual thing about this person: everything about them stuck out.

FifthChild was online each and every day, at nearly the exact same times as Shinji. Unlike Shinji, however, they were extremely active in the chat. Their comments were always lengthy and sophisticated; never about their own desires to take their life, but about the concept of suicide itself. For instance, _“Isn’t it laughable how we are all born to die? Everyone follows a different path, comes from different backgrounds, feels different emotions. And yet we all have one fact in common: we will not live forever. We will all die one day. Doesn’t the decision to die by your own hands, instead of allowing nature to take its course, make you unique and brave? ^^_ ” They always received a flurry of agreeing responses; they were very popular in the thread. It seemed like they would continue to return every day: that they would never make the trump card comment. Shinji found himself absently hoping that they never would. Their comments were always so fascinating.

There was one other thing they did differently than the others: when someone did type their last remark, they responded. Heartfully.

It wasn’t as if these final words were ever ignored. They were always met with a flurry of responses:

_black-heart: Good fucking riddance_

__

_D-E-A-T-H: congrats buddy_

__

_RavenReaper: bye bye!!!!!_

__

_xkillingxmexsoftly: RIP_

And so on. But then, there were FifthChild’s responses.

_FifthChild: God bless your soul. Or, if there is no God: I wish you the best on your journey. You fought a strong battle. You have defeated yourself; you have won. You were brave and you were beautiful. Thank you for gracing us with your presence these past few weeks. I am glad you have been able to find sanction. XOXOXO_

Nobody ever added anything after that. FifthChild’s farewells were always the last things to be said about the users that took their lives.

“FifthChild” fascinated Shinji.

Shinji did not know that on the other side of the screen, Kaworu Nagisa was fascinated by “Ikari.”

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Shinji arrives home from school. He leaves his shoes by the door and tiptoes up the stairs, as if his father will appear if he makes even the slightest sound. He neglects his homework and heads straight to the computer, opening up the chat room (he doesn’t sign out anymore; only minimizes the web page and refreshes it on occasion). It is a typical evening in what his life has become.

He has no idea that his fate would change on this night.

Messages appear continuously, one after the other on the screen. Shinji does his best to read them all, but the exact context of the words escape him. It’s all the same gist. Why he continued to read these repetitive dialogues day after day, he didn’t quite understand; it was like listening to a mediocre song on repeat for hours on end. But Shinji still scrolls, reading/skimming the messages. It is a bland, meaningless hobby, but it occupies him. Even if it is the same thing, day after day after day…

...but this. _This_ is new. What happens now… is new.

A dialogue box appears in the upper righthand corner of the screen, to the side of the main chatting. It surprises Shinji, for just a second. Nothing has ever popped up on the website before, but he assumes it’s just a browser advertisement… He peels his eyes away from the chat to read what the dialogue box says. ...reading it thoroughly startles him.

_Private message from user FifthChild. VIEW __ IGNORE_

...a… private, message? Aimed at him? He never even participated in the conversations, why would anyone- ...no, not just anyone. Why would the eccentric _FifthChild_ \- message him exclusively?! He clicks _VIEW_ quicker than his mind can comprehend what is happening.

_FifthChild: Hello there! :)_

_...what?_ It is a simple greeting. Literally the most basic greeting available. So why does it make Shinji’s heart thud harder and faster? Perhaps the fact that someone has offered him a greeting at all is what throws him off… Frantically, he rereads the simple message over and over, as if expecting it to disappear, or change its text, or for another message to arrive. It takes many seconds for him to consider responding. But once he does consider it, he nervously decides that he must do it.

His hands shake as they hover above the keyboard. ...what does he say? A cool, casual “hey”? Or would that be too familiar? Ask what it is they want? Or would that be too rude? Shinji rests his fingers on the keys, still shaking. He stares at the screen a few seconds more.

_Ikari: Hello_

He did it. He sent it. He settled with the blandest, simplest response possible. But perhaps, he thinks, that was the best choice. After all, he himself is bland and simple. He wouldn’t want to give a false impression to- …….to whom? A poetic stranger on the internet? Why would it matter what impression he gives? Was he hoping to get to know them? To impress them? Shinji blushes faintly. He is embarrassed at his childish notion.

Still, the embarrassment is not enough to halt the strange feeling of hope throbbing in his chest. Beneath his message, in italics, appears: _FifthChild is typing…_ and his heart leaps. Someone is… trying to talk to him-! Someone that is potentially cool, and sophisticated, and interesting-!

_FifthChild: You’re online a lot, aren’t you? O.O_

Another message appears before Shinji can even read what FifthChild said.

_FifthChild: Every day, from what I’ve seen._

Shinji’s heart races inside his chest. How-? How did they know he was always online-? It takes him a few panicked seconds to recall that there was a box to the side of the screen listing all of the users on the chat. Still… Was FifthChild so attentive that they noticed the name “Ikari” appear daily? Somehow, it seemed very like them.

Minutes tick by. Shinji sits, perplexed, his mind humming like an untuned radio station. On the other side of the computer screen, God knows how far away, the FifthChild with whom Shinji is so interested in awaits a response from him. Ignoring him would be rude, Shinji knows...But what should he say? ….and why, exactly, should he matter? “FifthChild” is a complete stranger to him. He has no evidence that they’re even the same person every time they log on, various people could be highjacking the screen name. ...yet Shinji feels strongly compelled to answer them. Something, some inner feeling, tells him he can trust FifthChild. Like a priest blindly following a god they have no proof exists, Shinji believes in FifthChild.

He moves his cursor to the response box.

But before he can place his fingers on the keyboard, the message saying _FifthChild is typing…_ appears. He freezes.

_FifthChild: You never say anything, though…._

The few seconds of confidence Shinji had built up comes crashing back down. He recovers more quickly this time, though. Closing his eyes tightly and drawing in a deep breath, he ignores the shaking of his fingers, and types.

_Ikari: I prefer to read._

There. He did it. He messaged FifthChild back; sent him two messages. He is having a conversation with this infamous user. His heart continues to race.

_FifthChild: Booky, are you? ^_^_

“Booky”? What did that mean? Wait, did FifthChild interpret his response as meaning he liked reading in general, like a bookworm? Oh, no, he had given him a false impression…. Shinji scrambles to think of a clarifying response.

_Ikari: Not really, I don’t read very often, I just don’t talk very much_

Was that effective? Did FifthChild understand what he was saying, now? Shinji holds his breath as he waits for the _FifthChild is typing…_ message to go away.

His heart stops once it does and he hurries to read their response.

_FifthChild: Oh! Yes, that makes sense… So you are shy, then?_

All FifthChild did was state a simple inquiry about Shinji’s personality, and yet Shinji feels as if he has just received the highest praise. He feels like if FifthChild says it, it must be true; if FifthChild told him he was garbage, he got the feeling that he would dispose of himself immediately. He realized that for whatever bizarre reason, he holds truth in anything this mysterious “FifthChild” says. So the word “shy” sticks to him. _I’m Shinji Ikari, and I’m shy._ It feels right.

_Ikari: Yes, shy_

__

_FifthChild: That’s really cute!_

...cute? Now that is a legitimate compliment. A childish one, perhaps, but a compliment nonetheless. Someone- an amazing someone- said something nice about Shinji. They called him _cute_. This adjective, Shinji has more trouble assimilating into his personality. It has a different effect on him: instead of believing it, he uses this remark as proof that FifthChild is someone to be admired. If nothing else, Shinji knew, now, that FifthChild was kind: a trait rare in people nowadays, especially in someone that frequents a suicide chatroom. So Shinji leeches onto this kindness.

Now there would be no stopping his fascination with FifthChild.

_FifthChild: So, Ikari. May I ask why you visit this forum so often?_

Shinji considers the question. “Because I’m addicted”? “Because I have nothing else to do”? “Because it interests me”? None of these responses seem right. He decides to respond with the reason he found the chatroom in the first place.

_Ikari: Because I want to die_

A pain rises in his chest when he hits _Enter_. Of course, he has thought about his want of death frequently in the past; but never before had he shared this desire with another human being. He wonders what FifthChild will think of it.

_FifthChild: Oh, goodness… That’s really awful. :( What is it that makes you want to die?_

__

_FifthChild: If you’re alright with sharing, that is._

Shinji trusts FifthChild, as misguided as said trust may be. He hasn’t trusted anyone in a long, long time. ...but he still can’t say he trusts him enough to disclose such personal information. He feels guilty shooting down FifthChild’s curiosity, but he isn’t that comfortable yet.

_Ikari: I can’t really share. Sorry_

He fears that FifthChild will be angry or prying with him, or ignore him. But they respond speedily.

_FifthChild: That’s quite alright! I won’t push you. ^_^_

__

_This person is an angel,_ Shinji thinks to himself in awe. FifthChild’s accepting response gives Shinji a small boost of confidence. He feels a bit daring.

_Ikari: Hbu? Why are you always here?_

This time, it takes FifthChild much longer to respond. Shinji’s message box is still for nearly a minute, and when the _FifthChild is typing…_ dialogue appears, it remains for even longer. Shinji’s heart beats faster as he stares at the screen in anticipation.

_FifthChild: Well, I suppose you could categorize me as suicidal. My intents aren’t as dark as many of our friends in this chat; the root of my desires don’t lay in any sort of pain or self-loathing. Instead, you could say I’m simply curious. Why was I born into this world? What purpose do I serve? Surely, nothing of importance. That being as it is, is it truly necessary for me to live? What would be the consequences of my death? I feel as if they would be nothing major. And so, I cannot truly say I want to die at my own hands; merely, I consistently wonder if it would be pleasant to die._

Shinji gapes, awestruck. Such poetic reasoning… It seems very like FifthChild to respond in such a matter. ...it makes Shinji smile, which is an accomplishment in it of itself. He rereads the message over and over several times until it occurs to him that perhaps FifthChild is waiting for him to respond. But what should he say? Shinji can’t tell what FifthChild wants or is expecting. Comfort? Praise? Agreement? Disagreement? Shinji types what first comes naturally to him.

_Ikari: I think you’re important._

FifthChild’s response is so delayed that Shinji wonders if they logged off.

_FifthChild: Thank you, Ikari. :)_

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Shinji no longer had any intent of reading the chats in _The suicide Pact_. When he rushes to his computer screen each day, he immediately clicks on the personal message box, checking if FifthChild is online, and if not, waiting for them to be. FifthChild never went a day without logging on. Their conversations varied in topic and duration, but they never failed to communicate daily.

On the third day of their chatting, they decided to exchange basic information. Shinji learned that, just like him, FifthChild was a fifteen-year-old male living in Japan (Shinji hoped that he didn’t think he was lying when he responded with _‘Me too!’_ when FifthChild told him these things). His real name was Kaworu Nagisa, and the explanation of his screen name was actually quite depressing: although he was an only child, his mother had had four failed pregnancies before him, and so he would have been his parents’ fifth child.

_Ikari: ...I’m really sorry to hear that. Your parents must be really happy to have you._

...was Shinji’s response to this explanation.

_FifthChild: You would think so… But they don’t actually pay me much mind. ^^”_

Shinji wanted to use this opportunity to tell FifthChild- no, Kaworu- about his father, but as he rested his fingers on the keyboard, he quickly lost his nerve.

_Ikari: Still, that’s a really creative screen name_

__

_FifthChild: Well, thank you! I enjoy the plain simpleness of yours. :)_

Shinji suddenly felt pride in his choice of username.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

One day, Kaworu asked Shinji for a picture.

_FifthChild: Please don’t take that in a weird way-! I’m curious as to what you look like, is all. O.o_

Shinji doesn’t want Kaworu to see his face. He fears that when he sees how disgustingly normal he is, he’ll be disappointed. But he simply can’t tell Kaworu no. Besides: he had to admit that he wondered what Kaworu looked like on the other side of the computer screen, too.

_Ikari: No, it isn’t weird… But can you send me one, too?_

__

_FifthChild: Of course, Shinji! ^_^ One moment…._

As Shinji, in bewilderment, tries to think about what kind of picture he should send Kaworu, a message he had never gotten before appears in the chatlog: _FifthChild is attaching an image..._

The attachment pops up on his screen immediately. The time/date caption in the lower corner shows that Kaworu had just snapped the picture with his webcam, unseen by anyone but Shinji. ...Kaworu is beautiful. His skin is pale like porcelain, his hair dusty in color and appropriately shaggy, his eyes deep and bright, his grin gentle and sincere. He does not look like someone that constantly contemplates dying. He does not look like someone that _should_ die. He is beautiful and that is all.

Shinji had planned on showing him the picture from his student ID, taken months ago and somewhere in his files. But he feels as if that wouldn’t be fair. Kaworu showed him himself in the moment; he feels as if he should do the same. ...he had never taken a picture of himself before. Does he even have a webcam? Yes, he does, he found it. He opens it and an image of his own face fills the screen. He gasps, but muffles it with his hand; if his father is downstairs, he might hear him. He removes his hand and stares at his reflection: something he dreads so much. Himself.

Shinji Ikari is the epitome of plain. Eyes the color of stale water. Brown hair. Average nose. Average skin. Average build. The only thing he can’t say is average about him is his smile, because in order to be average, it would have to exist. He wants to smile for Kaworu, but he can’t remember how. So, watching himself cautiously, he brings his hand up to his mouth to hide his lack of a smile, and snaps the picture. He saves it as its default name and sends it to Kaworu. He waits a minute.

_FifthChild: Oh. My. God. You’re adorable!_

Shinji’s heart stops as he reads Kaworu’s response. ...adorable? No. Kaworu had already told him he had a cute personality, but he had enough trouble believing _that_ to be true… Nobody that had seen his face had ever called him such a thing, so there’s no way he could be. ...but Kaworu said he was. So he must be. His browser covers the webcam screen, but if he could see himself in that moment, he would find that his smile actually is quite charming, especially when he’s blushing.

He considers not responding. But after a few minutes tick by, he enters, _“Thank you.”_

_FifthChild: <3_

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

It took a little over a week after that for Shinji and Kaworu to reveal their locations to each other. Of course Shinji knew about the dangers of telling people on the internet where you lived, but he felt absolutely no hesitation telling Kaworu. He didn’t feel like some stranger to him; he felt like a friend. Besides, he had seen his face now: he had no reason to doubt him.

_FifthChild: I live in a small city called Eva… You’ve probably never heard of it. ;-;_

Shinji felt his heart leap into his throat. Did he read that right? Was his mind playing tricks on him? Was he dreaming? ...or did the glorious FifthChild truly live in the same city as him?

_Ikari: Omg... I live there, too_

His eyes widen as he realizes that Kaworu probably thought he was just pulling his leg. He quickly types a response to prove his credibility.

I _kari: You probably think I’m kidding but I promise I’m not. Do you know the local convenience store?_

__

_FifthChild: Ayanami’s Shop? O.o_

 

 _He’s heard of Ayanami’s Shop,_ Shinji thinks excitedly. His heartbeat increases along with his feeling of hopefulness.

_Ikari: Yes, I live around the street from there. And I go to Eva High, class 2B_

__

_FifthChild: Oh, I go to a private school in the town over… ;-; But oh my God! I can’t believe we live so close to each other! We HAVE to meet up sometime!_

Shinji thinks about Kaworu’s face; that porcelain skin, those ruby eyes. Then he thinks about being able to touch that skin, gaze into those eyes. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest.

_Ikari: I would like that :)_

__

_FifthChild: We’ll set a time and date. ^-^_

__

_Ikari: That would be really nice….._

And it was true that they would arrange a time and date to meet each other. However, neither of them could ever know under what circumstances they would.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Shinji loved talking to Kaworu. Often, their conversations were mostly one-sided; but those were the conversations Shinji enjoyed the most, because Kaworu would share with him his philosophical thoughts and perspectives. Kaworu was able to beautifully word every dark feeling Shinji ever had, and make him realize things he never even knew he agreed with. Kaworu’s ponderings were poetry that Shinji not only understood, but related to and enjoyed.

Sometimes, Kaworu said some things that balanced on the edge of being utterly morbid. He had said before that he didn’t necessarily want to die; but some of the things he confessed to Shinji made it seem otherwise. But they did not disturb Shinji: they only made him feel even closer to the boy. He got through each and every day with the prospect of being able to speak with him in the evening.

Another day has passed by. It has been a month since FifthChild sent Shinji that fateful first message. Shinji hurries home, a smile on his face, wondering what fascinating philosophy Kaworu will have to discuss with him today. He throws open the kitchen door and kicks off his shoes in a flurry of excitement.

He looks up. His heart stops. His smile fades. His face contorts into an expression of horror.

His father is sitting at the kitchen table, a bottle of beer in hand.

Shinji’s mind begins to race, along with his panicking heartbeat. His father is staring at him; maybe he is so drunk that he’s unable to recognize his son. Maybe he will lose interest momentarily, or nod off to sleep in his drunken stupor… Maybe Shinji can dart past him quick enough to make it up to his bedroom and lock the door.

His father shifts in his seat. He hiccups, adjusts his glasses, and wipes his mouth sloppily on his sleeve. “....Shinji.”

_Fuck_. Now Shinji’s only option is to run. Animal-like survival instinct turning on, he makes a dash for the hallway. If he can only make it down the hall and up the stairs, he can secure himself in his bedroom, where he will be safe behind a locked door. His father might stagger up the stairs after him, or shout for him from the bottom of the steps, but it will be impossible for him to pursue him further than that. Once in his room, Shinji can put in his headphones, and indulge in the comfort of chatting with Kaworu.

But he overestimates his own speed, and underestimates his father’s reflexes. Gendo, stumbling from his chair at the table and knocking a couple of empty beer bottles to the ground, grabs him by the wrist as he attempts to dart past. “Shinji? Izzat you?”

Shinji will not answer him. He tugs, struggling to pull free so that he can continue his escape. But his father manages an iron grip on his wrist. Shinji pulls harder, as Gendo squeezes tighter; and it causes a disgusting, agonizing popping sensation in the boy’s wrist.

The hallway is so close. Just down the hall is the staircase, and just up the stairs is the sanctuary of his bedroom. He can just picture the light flooding out of the door, offering its safety… But as Shinji reaches towards the hall, he watches it darken, until the door at the top of the stairs shuts and the reassuring light fades away. And Shinji’s desperate feeling of hope fades with it.

“Where’re you goin’, Shinji? Gotta make dinner ‘fore your mom comes home…” Gendo grumbles drunkenly, staring at Shinji with a lost expression glazing his face. Shinji starts attempting to pry his father’s fingers off of his wrist.

“....oy, wait…” Gendo releases Shinji for just a brief moment- not long enough for Shinji to attempt an escape- and instead grabs him by the shoulders. His eyes are wide and bloodshot. “...she’s dead, i’nt she? Yui’s dead?”

Shinji stops struggling. He doesn’t know which causes him more distress: his father blindly believing that his mother is still alive, or openly admitting that she is dead.

“Tha’s it, isn’ it?! She’s DEAD!” Gendo raises his voice, fury building in his expression. “And YOU, killed her, didn’t ya?!?”

“...I… no…” Shinji croaks, the color draining from his face. He knows he did not kill his mother, of course; he was still a young boy when she died, he _couldn’t_ have killed her. She died of an incurable illness that she hadn’t released she had until it was too late. Shinji didn’t kill his mother. He _loved_ his mother.

...yes, he loved his mother very much. With this one thought, Shinji’s mind dives into a whirlpool of memories.

There had been happier times in the Ikari family. Yui was a loving mother, and Gendo was a kind father and a doting husband. But Shinji didn’t possess many particularly warm memories with his father; no, the light of his childhood was his mother. She read books to him, baked cookies with him, shared laughter with him, held his hand everywhere they went. Shinji can still remember her calming scent.

...but one day she died. Thinking about it too hard makes Shinji feel as if he is being crushed by a giant fist. So he simply dwells on the fact that she is dead. Shinji remembers crying at her grave, Gendo standing solemnly behind him. Small, weeping Shinji had reached for his father’s hand, for some sense of security; and Gendo had smacked him away. He would never lay a loving hand on his son from that way forward.

He had never been especially close to his father. But after his mother’s death, young Shinji had nobody left in the world. His father was his only remaining friend. Gendo, though, was very poor at upholding friendships. He paid for Shinji’s education and occasionally brought home groceries; but other than that, he wanted to have nothing to do with the boy that so resembled his dead wife. Shinji would later find a term for this treatment: neglect. But there was nothing Shinji could do about it. He would ask his father about his day, show him the good marks he received at school, ask him to go to the park; but his father always turned him away. It wouldn’t be until his teenage years that his father paid him any mind, and even then, those interactions were limited to one thing: beatings. There was nothing Shinji could do. So eventually, he stopped trying.

The scene changes to a school setting. Shinji could not remember ever truly making any friends. No matter where he sat in the classroom- in the dead center, in the very front, in the very back, by the windows, by the door- it seemed that he was surrounded on all sides by pairs or groups of friends chattering away during breaks and nudging each other during lecture and exchanging notes before switching classes. But Shinji was always, always by himself, in his only lonely bubble. Nobody ever approached him; they likely didn’t even know his name.

Things seemed to change during his first year of high school. An attractive transfer student made a habit of sending Shinji flirtatious looks from across the room, and eventually had the gall to ask him to be her boyfriend. Shinji was confused but too amazed that one of his peers had actually spoken to him to turn her down. They exchanged phone numbers, and for the first time in a long time Shinji felt happy.

But then after class he received two texts from her:

_Omfg, I told that loser in my class that I told you about that I wanted to be his girlfriend. AND HE BELIEVED IT! LMAO. I’m gonna make him treat me to dinner and shopping tonight, he’ll be wrapped around my FINGER~_

__

_…...oh fuck. Wrong number._

Asuka Langley didn’t give Shinji flirtatious looks anymore. Only spiteful glances that resulted in a burst of giggles from her and her friends. Shinji loathed himself for believing a beautiful, popular girl like her would want anything to do with him.

But that loathing was apparently not enough to teach him to be more careful.

The second peer interaction of his high school career occurred when two boys that were constantly seen together approached Shinji and said they felt bad that he was always by himself. So, they started sitting with him, and asked him to hang out with them sometimes. Shinji liked these boys: they were genuinely nice to him and included him in all of their endeavors. Shinji had finally made friends.

Until he came to school late one day and heard them talking in the classroom.

“I’m telling you, he’s not _that_ bad, but he’s such a damn third wheel! We don’t need him around.”

“I have to agree with you there… He’s like a leech, honestly.”

“Yeah, it’s disgusting. Doesn’t he know what a third wheel is?”

“He's a dumbass...”

Well, now Shinji learned what a third wheel was. He didn’t talk to the boys anymore, and they made no effort to bring him back into their circle.

Second time must have been the charm: Shinji no longer trusted his peers. He was alone from there on out.

The loneliness was crippling, like a thousand thorns pricking into each inch of his skin. He had grown accustomed to the pain over time; numb to it. He was bleeding out, day after day, without paying a single care to it. Perhaps if he bled out completely, he sometimes thought, he would simply die. But was there truly anything left to bleed? He had become an empty shell, a pin cushion. He was alone. Not one person cared about him. He was trapped inside a box of two-way glass: he could see out, but nobody could see in. He had nobody but himself; except, he wasn’t really fond of himself, and so this was no comfort at all. He was alone, and it hurt. He was alone. Alone. Alone. _Alone_. Hopelessly, agonizingly, _alone_.

Shinji feels nothing as his father strikes him repeatedly with his hands and fists and occasionally foot. At the moment, Shinji is a numb being composed of self-hatred. It’s his fault. It’s all his fault. It’s his fault he hates himself. It’s his fault he has no friends. Perhaps his father was right, and it’s even his fault that his mother is dead. Everything is his fault and he needs to be punished for it.

The punches and slaps and kicks suddenly come to a halt. Gendo has passed out in his drunken stupor. Trapped inside the hurricane of his own mind, it takes Shinji several moments to acknowledge that the beating has stopped. He stares down at his father’s sleeping body for several seconds before his screaming thoughts quiet down enough for him to realize that he can escape now. Working on autopilot, still feeling like a prisoner to his own mind, he hurries down the hall and up the stairs, unaware of the physical aching in his body.

His head throbs and spins, but he suppresses the thoughts just enough so that he can conduct a normal conversation with Kaworu. He opens the chatroom and searches desperately for “FifthChild.” His heart races, a new sense of worry striking his mind as he begins to wonder if he was gone so long that Kaworu had logged off, until he finds his username towards the bottom of the screen. He hurries to click _PM user._

_Ikari: Sorry I’m late_

Kaworu starts typing immediately. It calms Shinji’s heartbeat a bit.

_FifthChild: Not a problem! ^_^ Is everything okay? O.O_

Shinji doesn’t want to worry Kaworu: the one person that matters to him in the world. But he also is unable to lie to him. He types hesitantly yet quickly.

_Ikari: no._

__

_FifthChild: Oh, no, that isn’t good…. Is it anything you’re willing to share with me?_

Shinji can’t do it. He can’t suppress the whirlwind of hateful thoughts anymore. He allows his feelings to take over and he types what he currently believes must be done:

_Ikari: I decided. I cant take it anymore. I want to die ASAP, kaworu. Im going to kill myself_

Kaworu does not respond instantaneously this time. In fact, it takes at least a minute for him to begin typing, and several more until he submits his response. It makes Shinji anxious.

_FifthChild: ….to be honest with you, Shinji, I wanted to tell you something very similar tonight. I have thought a lot on it, and I, too, have decided it’s time to take my own life. The thought of death is too tantalizing… It haunts my mind each hour of the day. I need to know just what it is. I have tried to be patient, but I can’t wait any longer. I wish to die, as you said, ASAP. And if you feel the same… I have a proposition for you._

...a proposition? Shinji’s first thought is that Kaworu is going to attempt to talk him out of suicide. But then, he sees that he has started typing another line. And then he enters it.

_FifthChild: Let’s kill ourselves together._

The words momentarily pause Shinji’s shouting thoughts, long enough for him to wonder what exactly Kaworu means by that. Together as in, at the same time-? By the same method-? Shinji waits for Kaworu to elaborate, but he doesn’t.

_Ikari: Together?_

Now Kaworu types.

_FifthChild: Yes. You live near Ayanami’s Shop, don’t you? We could meet in the woods behind the store and die together. I know where my father keeps his guns; I can bring two for us. We’ll place the barrels against our heads and pull the triggers in unison. It will be… quite beautiful, I believe._

Shinji doesn’t know what to think of this. They did say they would have to meet up one day… This was far from what Shinji had in mind. He and Kaworu, Ikari and FifthChild, meeting the same end as all of those teens on the news and in _"The suicide Pact"_....  It is a morbid thought. But it appeals to him greatly: not only will he get to meet his only friend face-to-face, but he will also be able to grant his persisting wish of death. It seems a win-win situation to Shinji. He sees no fault with the scenario.

_Ikari: That sounds perfect….. I want to do it_

__

_FifthChild: Oh, excellent-! We can meet tomorrow at 6 AM, before the store opens. Does that work for you?_

Shinji would prefer that they do it that night. But he cannot disagree with anything Kaworu has to say.

_Ikari: Yes_

__

_FifthChild: Well then, I suppose I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, then! :)_

Shinji and Kaworu continued chatting into late in the night. They discussed their beliefs and skepticisms on what was to come after death, and how many infinite ways there are to die. Never once did they mention why it was that they wanted to die.

When Kaworu had to sign off for the night, Shinji felt numb. Talking to him had calmed his thoughts, reducing them to a dull buzz. ...but their effect still lingered. He had no less of a desire to die. If anything, Kaworu’s enthusiasm about death made him want it even more.

His eyes drift absently to the time in the corner of his computer screen: it was nearly midnight. ...only six more hours until he could see Kaworu, and bring an end to his misery… He knows he should get some rest, but how can he when his mind is so occupied? He rises from his desk and prepares for bed, anyway.

It is when he strips out of his school uniform to change into his pajamas that he acknowledges the marks his father has left on him. Bruises cover his ribs, his wrist is black and blue, and he is aware of a throbbing pain in his face. Touching his lips, he feels a trail of dry blood. He can only imagine he looks like a wreck.

But that does not matter. Come the following morning, his body would no longer be of relevance.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Shinji arrives behind the convenience store at the promised time. He had snuck quietly out of his house, for fear that his father would still be in the kitchen. He wasn't; but a few more beer bottles littered the table and ground.

 

His body aches and he is dreary from an uneasy rest; but he at least washed his face and combed his hair before, so he would look presentable for Kaworu. As he dressed, he wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to look good if he was only going to die…

“Shinji, you came…!”

When he sees Kaworu, waiting for him in the designated location, he understands why he wanted to fix himself up.

Kaworu is even more beautiful in real life than he had been in his picture. He is like a walking porcelain doll, his lips lifting into an excited smile when he sees Shinji and his eyes glistening like real rubies as he raises his eyebrows. His smoky hair rustles with each step he takes towards Shinji. Standing in the shade of the woods, he resembles an angel on earth. Knowing that someone so lovely can exist in this world almost makes Shinji repeal his desire to die...

But there is a reason he is there with Kaworu, and that reason is so that he can kill himself. And so, he must.

“...hi… Sorry, to… keep you waiting,” Shinji stammers, mesmerized by Kaworu’s presence. He wonders if Kaworu is disappointed in the real-life Shinji Ikari; if he still thinks he’s adorable in person.

“Oh, no, I just got here!” Kaworu’s voice is a silky tenor tone. It matches his face perfectly and makes Shinji's knees go weak.

“....that’s good… So… Where are the guns?” Shinji asks, nervous.

Kaworu’s expression changes. He looks guilty, like someone who had just sold out a friend for their own benefit. He narrows his eyebrows and slips his hands into the pockets of his light jacket. “....I lied about that.”

His words pierce Shinji like icicles through his heart. ...Kaworu… Lied, to him? His cherished Kaworu, whom he could never bring himself to disagree with… _Lied_ to him? He suddenly feels sick; it’s like the incidents with Asuka and his two temporary friends all over again… He knew he shouldn’t trust anyone ever again, he _knew_ it…

“I never knew where my father keeps his guns. In fact, I don’t even know that he owns any…” Kaworu continues, shrinking into himself. “And… I haven’t been contemplating suicide lately. Death has been on my mind, yes, but… I don’t want to die just yet.” Shinji feels as though he is about to vomit. But then Kaworu looks up at him with pleading, resolved eyes. “But I wanted to talk to you face-to-face.”

His expression makes Shinji feel a little less sick; he can tell that Kaworu had no insidious intentions by lying to him. But he still feels weak and a bit numb. “...why?” he whispers.

Kaworu hesitates, staring at the ground as if searching for the right words. Then he raises his eyes and gazes at Shinji. Shinji makes sure to listen closely to each word. “My biggest problem has been that I see beauty in this world, yet fail to accept it. But…. Then I came across this shy, confused, lost little soul.  They struggled to converse, but they spoke with me every day. They were hurt and sad… But they had done nothing to deserve this agony. ...I’m talking about you, Shinji. Just talking to you… has changed me. It made me think: how many other lost souls are wandering around out there, in need of guidance? I wanted, so badly, to be able to find and guide them; but my biggest concern was you in particular. You find yourself to be so unappealing... But you're precious, in my eyes at least." He pauses, as if he needs to catch his breath. "...you told me that I was important. And I’m certain… that I’ve fallen in love with you, Shinji Ikari.”

Shinji’s heart flutters, then seems to come to a complete stop. ….love? Kaworu is… in _love_ , with him? So, that means… Kaworu is a homosexual-? Shinji wonders this, but not in any judgemental way; he always felt interested in women, but never had any desire for a romantic relationship with them. After all, he had only accepted Asuka’s offer in desperation for human attention. In fact, he never really thought about love at all... 

“So… Please, Shinji,” Kaworu goes on, his eyes shining with determined compassion. “I want you to live… ...and I would also like you to answer this request.” He pauses; not to wait for a response from Shinji, but more like to gather up the courage to make this request of his. “May I kiss you?”

Shinji is completely bewildered. Kaworu’s powerful words are even more hypnotizing to hear than to read off a computer screen… Kaworu just _confessed his love_ to him: plain old Shinji Ikari…. And now, he’s asking for a kiss. Shinji doesn’t know what to do; but he does know that he can never turn Kaworu away. “...yes… You can.”

Relief floods over Kaworu’s face. He steps closer to close the remaining gap between them, and gently takes Shinji’s face in both of his hand. His skin is smooth and cold. He furrows his eyebrows in a concerned manner; Shinji is sure he’s wondering about why Shinji’s face is so bruised and bloodied. But Kaworu says nothing about it and instead gazes into Shinji’s eyes, closing his own only when their noses touch, and brings their lips together.

It is over before Shinji’s numb mind is able to react. Kaworu pulls away smiling. “Please, Shinji… I’ll beg you if I must, just please, live. I’m certain you’ll be able to… The first step is to stop logging onto that awful forum. It isn’t good for you. I’ve been looking into solutions to suicidal thoughts, lately, and found the address for a local shelter for troubled teens… We can go there together! Escape the homes we feel so unhappy in. And you can receive the help you need-”

“Kaworu.” Shinji gasps out his name, as if he had been running to keep up with Kaworu’s words physically. “...this is… This is all really sudden, and you’re saying a lot of things,” he manages, his eyes focusing on Kaworu’s face and his expression clearly confused. Kaworu’s face flushes bashfully and his shoulders fall.

“...I’m sorry, Shinji… I’m sure this is a lot to take in…” he apologizes.

“But… it’s okay,” Shinji assures him softly. He gazes down at the ground. “...I just feel like… If you’re going to get me help… You should know why it is I feel this way.”

The two young men sit themselves against the trunk of a large tree, Kaworu holding Shinji’s hand comfortingly in his. Despite the coolness of his skin, his touch makes Shinji feel warm all over. He gazes at Shinji, intent and fascinated, as he speaks. “...my mother died when I was young. I was… very, very close to her. I loved her. My father likes to tell me that I killed her…. But… Deep down, I know she was just sick. That it… wasn’t my fault. She had been my only friend… And after her death, my father wouldn’t even look at me. ..unless it was to beat me. Which is why I look so awful right now..." He hears Kaworu utter a horrified gasp under his breath. "I was really lonely. I was too quiet in school to make any friends…. I had two friends for a little bit, but then I found out they didn’t really want me around. So I’ve just… always known that nobody would mourn me when I died. And since I’m so average in everything I do, I figure I’ll never amount to anything in life… And every day, it just hurts so badly, and I…” Shinji trails off as he realizes that tears have started to form in his eyes. One escapes and rolls down his cheek, but Kaworu reaches out immediately and wipes it away. ...he had never told anyone this in his entire life. But he feels no regret about telling Kaworu.

“So essentially, you’re lonely and grief-stricken…” Kaworu murmurs sympathetically. “Well, I believe that everyone was born for a reason. Nobody is worthless. It may not feel like it now, but, there is hope for the future. You’ll find your purpose in this world. And with enough help, you’ll know how it feels to be happy again.”

Shinji allows Kaworu’s words to sink in. Had Kaworu told himself these things, too, to help recover from his own depressing thoughts? ...he feels as though he can believe them. Then, he looks up at the other boy’s face. “What about you? What made you want to die?”

Kaworu appears sincerely shocked that Shinji would be curious about his own story. So, he takes a moment to collect himself, and speaks. “As you’ve noticed, I tend to overthink things. I’m too philosophical for my own good, you might say… So I, too, constantly contemplate my smallness and relevance to the world. ...although, mostly… I feel as though I’m a disappointment. To my parents, that is. They tried so hard for a child, and yet… They don’t seem to be very content with me. I feel as though I don’t meet their expectations, I’m not everything they wanted me to be…” He smiles sadly. “It makes me feel a little worthless, to be honest.”

Shinji wants to offer Kaworu advice; make him feel more secure, as he had done to Shinji himself, give him something to think on. He knows he isn’t that bright… But he tries anyway. “...I don’t think you’re worthless at all. You’re thoughtful… and helpful… And kind, and intelligent… Plus you’re beautiful…” Shinji blushes as he lets that comment slip, but continues on. “And the world would be a lot worse if you weren’t in it. I said it before... I think you're important.”

He glances at Kaworu’s face, and blushes even deeper as he sees that he is gazing at him with an expression he has never seen before: a combination of awe, and unconditional love. “...thank you, Shinji…” Kaworu lets out a short, light laugh, and his smile grows even warmer. “ _Thank_ you.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, listening to the sounds of each others’ breathing, the birds and insects singing faintly, and the cars passing down the road. Shinji feels calm. “...Shinji…” Kaworu begins after a couple minutes. “I know this is abrupt, but… I truly want you to consider my offer. We can overcome these feelings together. Find therapy, and… be happy. You and I.”

Shinji doesn’t want to seem as though he’s avoiding Kaworu’s proposal, but there is something else on his mind that he wants to know first. “...I think about you a lot. Constantly, actually. You’re the only person I feel I can tell anything to. I trust you with my life, and I feel as though anything you say has to be true. Everything you say just… gets to me… And looking at you,” he glances at him out of the corner of his eye, “makes my heart beat really oddly… So… Does that mean, I love you?”

The expression returns to Kaworu’s face: that look of utmost adoration. He smiles softly, and then grins. “It just might.”

”....Kaworu…”

“Yes, Shinji?”

“...may I ask you one favor?”

Kaworu’s eyes widen, as if shocked that Shinji would think it necessary to ask permission for a favor. “Yes, of course-! Anything…”

Shinji hesitates. He knows Kaworu will say yes, but he still feels embarrassed to ask… “....kiss me again?”

Kaworu smiles softly, and grips Shinji’s hand; tightly, as if he has no intent of ever letting go. “I’d love to.” He leans over and gives Shinji another kiss. Shinji is better prepared this time, and closes his eyes and basks in the kiss's feeling. As their lips touch, he squeezes Kaworu’s hand back. And for the first time in years, Shinji feels… alive. He smiles against the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I experimented with a new writing style for this fic... Either it worked out really well, or it was just sloppy and came off as bad writing. ^^" Regardless, this is one of my prouder works, and I put a lot of effort into it; it took me about three months to finish! I hope you enjoyed my first KawoShin fan fiction.


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